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The thought accompanied him into slumber, and pleasant contemplation of potential conquests to come.
CHAPTERFOUR
The ballroom was full of glittering personages, one table piled high with gifts and another with cakes and punch, all of it to celebrate his mother’s birthday. Arthur sighed as he glanced around the room, a half-full glass held idly in one hand as he surveyed the assembled guests.
The last few weeks had been frustrating and it felt rather as though some higher power was either chastising him for his behavior or mocking him for his decisions regarding his latest pursuit.
Nora, his mother’s little maid, had become nearly as invisible as he’d once thought her. He’d scarcely seen her since the night of their encounter in his chambers. And the few times he had spied her, she’d been quick to turn on her heels and go the other direction, without even a greeting or the minimum of courtesy.
He’d tried to ask his mother about it, but she’d only smiled and brushed his comments aside with vague responses of ‘new duties’ and ‘busy preparing for the birthday ball.’ If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was engaged in helping the girl avoid him.
Only twice had he managed to be in her vicinity, and both times she’d vanished before he could do more than offer a greeting.
The first time, he’d planned to make his way to the Morning Room for breakfast at the same time she came up to the family wing to tend to his mother’s myriad flower arrangements. He’d succeeded in being in the same corridor with her, catching her in the act of giving more water to a vase of heavy blooms that looked on the verge of wilting. But he’d barely managed more than ‘good morning’ before she’d excused herself and practically dived into his mother’s parlor.
He’d been quite unable to follow her, given that his mother’s sitting room was one of the rooms he was barred from, like her bedroom and bathing chamber. He had been raised from boyhood to understand that the parlor was the domain of women-folk and not to be entered without express permission.
The second time, he’d taken to lingering in the halls late in the evening on a pretext of walking the grounds making sure to be near the back door around the time she left for her lodgings. He’d caught sight of her, but she’d been closer to the exit than he was, and she’d been out the door and across the moonlit grounds before he could close the distance. He’d considered giving pursuit but refrained. After all, it would not do to look too desperate.
And since then... nothing. Nothing save the occasional glimpse in the halls, both of them too busy about their individual business or duties for him to make any attempt at engaging her.
He’d tried ringing for service during times he was confident both his valet and the butler were otherwise occupied, hoping she would answer as she had before. Instead, he’d either been forced to wait for his manservant, or another servant had come to attend to him, and he’d had to invent an excuse for requesting their presence.
He’d attempted to avoid other entanglements, at least on the estate grounds, in hopes that he might subtly convey his interest by means of forbearance, but if she’d noticed, she’d not made any indication of it. All he’d managed was to frustrate himself with his unaccustomed deprivation.
After a month of determined effort, he was no closer to securing the maid’s affections or her presence in his bed. Or his office couch.
And now it was the long-awaited birthday ball, and he’d secured no lady to be his companion for the evening, meaning he had no excuse to give any lady his particular attention. A pity, for Annabelle Norburn was being quite friendly and would have been an excellent dinner and dancing companion for the evening if he’d been bestirred to ask.
Speaking of Annabelle, the next dance was starting—a spirited Cotillion dance favored by those of his set—and she was sending him flirtatious smiles and a clear invitation. And not one he cared to refuse.
He finished his glass of punch and moved forward until he was before her, offering his hand with a bow and a charming smile, she answered in kind. “Perhaps you might favor me with another dance, my lady?” They’d already shared the second dance of the evening, a stately country dance.
“But of course, Your Grace. It would be my pleasure.” She swept a curtsy and took his hand, and the two of them stepped out onto the floor amid the rest of the couples.
The dance was a lively one; he and Annabelle paired with David and a young lady he’d brought with him whose name he could not currently recall. The four of them moved in and out of the other circles in a complicated pattern of steps, dipping and bowing and moving until they were all breathless and warm and heady with enjoyment and the glow of bright lights and good wine.
Finally, the dance spun to its final figure. He swirled Annabelle through the last steps before bringing both of them to a graceful stop and giving her a bow. “I thank you, my lady.” He exhaled. “Would you care for some refreshment?”
“I would indeed, Your Grace.” She stepped away, moving toward the seats on the far side of the floor.
Arthur stepped off the floor and began making his way to the refreshment table. He was halfway there when his mother appeared in front of him, halting his progress. “Mother.”
He took her hand and bowed over it before offering her a smile. “I trust you are enjoying yourself.”
“Not so much as you appear to be enjoying your time with the Norburn girl.” His mother’s lips were thin with disapproval. “Did I not know better, I would think there was some attachment or understanding between you two.”
Arthur sighed and bit back the sharp words that wanted to escape him. He was not in the mood.
Gads, can she not leave it alone for even one day? I should think she’d have other things on her mind, today of all days.
He controlled himself with an effort. “Miss Norburn…” He barely stopped himself from calling Annabelle by her given name, all too aware of how his mother would take it. “Miss Norburn is a delightful companion, and as neither of us has an escort for the evening…”
“I had noticed. But really, Arthur... such blatant displays. Why you might as well declare your engagement with the way you two are acting as if you’re the only ones in the room.”
He sighed. “Mother... I’ve no such intentions.”
“I’m well aware of that. But I tell you now, will you or not, if I see you on the floor with her again, I’ll post the banns and the engagement announcement myself.” His mother looked down her nose at him primly.
